Crossings
by unbreakablemind
Summary: A prostitute finds her way into Rock's apartment. Juxtapositions and Crossings. Perceptions and Misunderstandings. There are tough times ahead for Rock and Revy.
1. Chapter 1

_I'm just another aspiring author. I want to write a BL story that's targeted toward a more mature audience. I will try my best to avoid fan service and give you guys the real deal. _

_This story/arc picks after Black Lagoon 009 Roberta's Blood Trail. A mixture of reference from the Anime and the Manga will be used. _

_Legal stuff: I don't own Black Lagoon or any of its characters from the series. _

_Please leave comments and suggestions blah blah blah. I already have a good idea how's it going to end. I'm not doing any fan service. Yes, I want to make it frustrating for all of you. :P_

_More chapters to come._

* * *

The sea sat quietly on Sunday morning. It was too lazy to pull it self away from the pier, or to push itself onto the beach. It simply hung on today, like a tired beast, resting. The rhythmic churning sound of the water was interrupted by several splashing sounds. A flat rock flew from the pier and skipped across the tough hide of the enormous beast before being finally sucked down into its belly.

Rock threw another one and watched it sink. One moment it was skipping, not knowing where it's going, the next moment it sunk like lead, swallowed by the darkness of the water. He threw a few more rocks, each one skipping a few times and then sinking. When he finally got bored, he shook out a Marlboro from a cigarette box and put one in his mouth. He lit it and took a long drag. A gust of wind picked up and a curious pattern was drawn from the smoke lingering in the air. Like an artist, Rock tried to paint the thin air with smoke. The beautiful entwinement of smoke and air lingered for a second before becoming a greater part of nothingness. He took another long drag and let the smoke slowly escape, watching its progress as it slowly dissolved into the air.

Rock stood there and finished his smoke, his eyes focused on the gap between the wooden planks beneath him. When he finished, he tossed the butt into the water. His eyes automatically followed the trajectory. The cigarette butt stayed afloat, riding the waves. The water seemed unable to drag it down, and the butt lolled around stupidly on the surface. After a while, Rock put his hands in his pockets, gave the butt one last glance, and then started to walk away.

* * *

"Where's Rock?" Dutch asked he went to the coffee machine to pour himself a cup.

"He's at that pier again." A voice came from the couch. Revy was lying on her back reading a gossip magazine.

Dutch made no comment and continued to add sugar and cream to his coffee. The clinking of spoons on the coffee mug was broken by the sound of the door opening and closing. Rock went straight for the armchair and sank into it. Revy followed Rock out of the corner of her eye, and then returned to her magazine when Rock finally sat down. Rock was slightly uplifted by the scent of coffee that suddenly invaded his nose. Dutch sat down on a chair next to Rock's, and sipped his coffee.

Rock watched Dutch drink his coffee for a minute before taking in a deep breath and sinking his entire back into the comfort of the chair.

"Rock."

"Hmm, what is it Dutch?" replied Rock lazily.

"Did you finish the bookkeeping last night?"

"Yes, it's all done."

"How does it look? Does everything check out? Anything we need to look into?"

"It was alright. I sorted out the interest with the Indonesians. Hotel Moscow has paid up for the shipment. So no worries."

Dutch stared into nothing while continuing to drink his coffee. He took a few sips before slowly setting the mug onto the coffee table with a soft "ting".

"Rock, I feel like you've aged thirty years."

"What makes you say that?"

"What keeps you, yourself, from seeing that?"

"Well, there's only direction you can go once you are born, and that's to age. Some age gracefully, some age quicker than others. But we are all getting older."

Dutch considered Rock for a minute. Rock continued to gaze at the ceiling, breathing deeply.

"You've been going to that pier a lot lately." Dutch stated in a matter-of-fact manner.

Revy was staring at one spot on her magazine. Her eyebrows are furrowed and she listened intently to Rock and Dutch.

"One has to reflect, and get to know himself. Stuff happens in life, Dutch. You know that better than anyone. You can't prepare for them all. And sometimes they shake the core of who you are. So I choose to reflect, as a mean of coping if you want to look at it that way."

"Hmm, don't fry your brain too much. You are making me nervous. Don't forget I've got a pretty stocked bookshelf. If you need any self-help books, I could write you a prescription."

"Thanks, Dutch." Rock chuckled and sprang off from his chair to grab himself a coffee.

Revy finally sat up, and tossed the magazine onto the table and watched Rock pour himself a cup of coffee. She made a soft "tch" sound and took out a cigarette. After lighting up, she laid her arms across the couch and leaned back, looking into the ceiling.

The phone rang just as Rock came back to sit down. Dutch walked to the phone and picked it up.

"Lagoon Company, Dutch Speaking… Mr. Chang. I suppose you have a job for us?"

Dutch listened as the other side talked.

"Ok, sure thing Mr. Chang. The price sounds good. With any luck we should be able to get the goods back to the port in three days….Yeah, mm hmm. Alright, my pleasure."

Dutch hung up and said to the other two, "We got a job from Mr. Chang. He wants us to receive a shipment. We will head out this evening. I will have to plan out a route and check the whether. Revy, I want you to pack some extra weapon and ammo. Mr. Chang warned us other Triad groups in Cambodia might try to take the goods forcibly away from us, so we have to watch out for them. This is a simple job for five grand. Mr. Chang will reward us more if we can get the goods back in perfect condition. Try not to get shitfaced before then."

"Alright Dutch. I will be a good girl." Revy snorted, "What a fucking waste of time. Too bad we need the get-by work."

Dutch went over to the radio to let Benny, who is working on the boat, to let him know what's going on.

* * *

After preparing for the trip, which took all morning, the entire lagoon company went out for lunch in the market. Dutch ordered some noodles and brought them back to the table. He drew curious glances from a few youngsters walking past on the street who has never seen a black man before. Dutch sat down and took out a Newport.

"Damn, I'm running low on these." Dutch said. Rock noticed there are only two cigarettes left in the box. "I think I spent a better of my income on imported goods."

"Why don't you just smoke Marlboro? You are about the only one in this town who smokes Newport." Revy said as she prodded the noodles with her chopstick, trying to find the weakest link to attack first.

"I'm just playing up to my stereotype. If I was the mayor of this town, I would get rid of the shitty counterfeit cigarettes on the streets. That would do everyone some good. Evan a villain deserves a good cigarette." Dutch replied.

"You'd have my vote." Benny said.

Rock took occasional bites but the noodle tasted rather bland today. He wasn't very interested in the conversation the rest were having. He sighed and rested his face in his palm and looked out onto the streets. He prodded his noodles absent mindedly without looking. The noodles got submerged and bounced right back up like a struggling man trying not to drown. Revy drew her attention away from the conversation and noticed Rock's chopsticks mutilating the noodle. She caught Dutch's eye and gave him a look, she then pointed her eyes to the hot sauce and then to rock's bowl. Dutch grinned, and nodded.

A small child was on the street pretending to a beggar to make some money. Rock watched the child's futile quest as adults shooed him away. It was very entertaining. He brought the bowl back to his face and started gulping down the soup. Revy, Dutch, and Benny looked intently at Rock, trying their best to hold back their laughter. Rock stiffened up suddenly, and then brought the bowl quickly down onto the table. His face was red and his eyes watering. After a few seconds, his tongue finally came out and he started to hyperventilate like a dog.

"Get… me… water…" Rock coughed.

Revy, Dutch, and Benny started laughing and banging on the tables. Their commotion caused a few tables around them to turn their heads. Rock found a glass of water offered to him from Revy.

"Oh man, Rock. You should've seen your face! Man, that was gold! Wished I had a camera. Fuckin' hilarious!" Revy laughed and gave Rock a light punch on the shoulder, "You feelin' alright there, partner? Paying more attention to your food now?"

"Thanks a lot guys. That was absolutely hilarious. Fuck. Need more water." Rock took another swig of water and said, "I can't wait till I get back at you for this."

Revy watched Rock as he cooled down and started to laugh with everyone else. The expression on her face softened. She studied the man like an art critique studying a painting, taking in everything from the light reflecting from the sweat on his sideburn to the perfect creases on his shirt arms. She suddenly found Rock smiling at her. Disarmed, she automatically smiled back. Then she suddenly turned away from Rock, and started to eat her noodles with a pensive look.

* * *

The company finished lunch after Rock had ordered a new bowl of noodles (sans hot sauce). Revy avoided looking at Rock direct on for the rest of the meal. The crew walked back to their car. Rock noticed Revy's usual hardened expression return to her face after they got in. Benny started the car and drove off for the port. The sunlight pressed heavily down upon them, making them feel slightly drowsy. Revy had her arms crossed and stared resolutely out of the window. Next to her in the backseat, Rock is enjoying the scenery, looking relaxed. The radio played Teresa Teng, filling the car with her honey sweet voice. Normally the three Americans would switch the station as soon as she came on, but everyone is too lazy today. After a while, Dutch even started humming to the tune. The lagoon company all sat there, seemingly enjoying Teresa Teng, as they headed for the comfort of AC in their office.


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow that was fast wasn't it? Faster than you expected? _

_Thanks to the people who liked my story. I need your support to keep it going._

_As promised, here's chapter 2. I'm on reading break, so instead of studying for subjects such as heat transfer or fluid dynamics, I'm writing fan fics! Oh the shame! _

_Legal stuff: I don't own Black Lagoon or any of its characters from the series. _

_Please leave comments and suggestions blah blah blah. _

_More chapters to come. _

**Chapter 2**

* * *

A gust of cold wind blew over a sidewalk in an austere part of Chicago. Run-down apartment building complexes were painted gold by the early morning sun. Well dressed business man and blue collar workers in coveralls walked with brisk paces, trying to get to work on time. There was a beggar out on the corner of the sidewalk. He was wearing a dirty jacket and a matching stocking cap. He muttered to himself while walking in circles. Pedestrians walked around the anomaly, trying not to make eye contact with the beggar. Nearby, Owen Parker jaywalked across the street. He had his hands in his jean pockets. His dirty and unkempt appearance did not endear him to the public. People walking past gave Owen a wide berth and ignored him just as much as they ignored the beggar. Owen reciprocated the attention to given to him and continued on.

Owen stopped in front of a barber shop at the end of the street and entered. A tinkle of bell greeted him. The barber was slowly getting up from one of his chairs, his eyes glued to the book he was reading. The barber patted the chair, inviting the customer over, but still not taking his eyes off the book. Owen strode over and sat down. The barber took his eyes off the book and stood there, looking shocked.

The man in the chair was getting his first haircut in three years. The barber looked apprehensively at the mangled mess of graying brown manes covering the head and face. He asked discouragingly "what would you like today, sir?"

"Number two tapered on the sides and back. Four on top. Leave the sideburns. Give me a close shave also." Owen replied, not taking his eyes off the mirror. The barber still had some apprehension. Owen added "Don't worry, I promise I will pay." The barber slowly reached for his pair of scissors. He held it open and was about to make the first cut, and then he stopped. The barber looked in the mirror and gave Owen a questioning expression. Owen nodded.

The barber attacked his customer's hair without much care, since there was so much. The barber tried to lighten the mood by making conversation, but the customer was not very talkative. The customer watched his transformation in the mirror without much blinking. He was gazing into the mirror with such intensity that the barber recoiled slightly from the reflection.

"Umm, sir, are you alright?"

"I'm better than alright. Please continue."

The barber took a moment to wipe the sweat off his head. He stretched his fingers and kept on working. After forty minutes, Owen checked his fresh crew cut and his clean shaven face in the mirror. For the first time in three years, he could see the color in his green eyes. He looked alive. His clothes however, still didn't match his clean cut appearance. His windbreaker was stained and the bright yellow it once was looked rather gray. The jeans on his legs were torn and there were grease stains on the sides. He got up and brushed the back of his head with his hands. The barber looked quizzically at the mismatched appearance. Owen took out a hundred dollar bill and gave it to the barber, "Keep the rest as your tip." The barber looked stunned at his good fortune and did not notice Owen exiting the shop until he heard the bell by the door.

* * *

In the South China Sea, the Black Lagoon was cruising under the soft light of the gibbous moon. A silhouette of a man could be seen on the turret, gazing into the sky. Inside the cockpit, Dutch's skin was tainted green by the navigation monitors in front of him. He unwrapped a box of 555 cigarettes since he ran out of Newport's. The 555's were from Revy. Dutch lit up and leaned back into his seat, listening to the engine. The rhythmic vibration kept him focused and alert. A clatter of footsteps on metal interrupted Dutch's meditation. Rock was climbing down into the cockpit.

"Rock, get Benny to cover for me for a few hours. I want to get some shut eye. We are getting close, when we are near, get me up here" Dutch stood up and stretched. He patted Rock's shoulder and gave a slight squeeze as he walked past. Rock looked over his shoulder. Dutch's face is illuminated by the red glow from his cigarette. The two stood there as they silently communicated. After a while, Dutch let go of Rock, and continued on to his quarters. Rock stood still and scratched his chins, mesmerized by the blinking green lights on the navigation equipment. After a few minutes, he snapped out of his torpor and walked towards Benny's quarter.

Revy was lying on her bed. Her eyes were battling to stay open as sleep was slowly overpowering her. She had left her door slight ajar. Someone was walking past her room. She turned her head to look through the opening. Something distinctly white glided past beyond the door. After the footsteps had died out, Revy wriggled in her bed, trying to snuggle up to her blanket. After a few minutes, her struggle to get comfortable ended. She was able to close her eyes. A faint smile was etched on her face as she fell asleep.

* * *

Owen checked his reflection in the mirror on the sliding doors of the closet. He was wearing all grays. His crisp brown hair is also graying in many places. Only his vivid green eyes stood out from the wall of gray standing before him. The sweater he wore molded well to his muscular frame. The cargo pants pockets bulged where he had stored his clips. The watch on his left wrist was worn with the clock face on the palm side. There was a sliding metal sound as a clip was loaded into a silenced USP .40. After he loaded the chamber and checked the safety, Owen tucked the pistol into the holster concealed under the sweater on his back.

There was a picture taped to the mirror, next to Owen's reflection. It showed a woman, a man, and a small child. It was set against a pale blue background. The man had dark brown hair, green eyes, and a strong jaw line. The woman was kind faced, with red hair and a dazzling smile. The child sat in the woman's lap; her light brown hair in a ponytail. They all looked happy. Owen reached out and touched the picture, his face full of tenderness as he did so. He closed his eyes slowly. The sound of the ticking clock echoed loudly in the room. A minute went past, and then sunlight flooded the dusty apartment as the clouds above drifted away. Owen felt the warmth of the sun on his arm. He opened his eyes, breathing deeply. His reflection was still standing there in the mirror. He straightened out a few wrinkles on his clothes and headed for the door. After one last quick glance at his apartment, Owen opened the door and walked out.

* * *

A few hours later, the Black Lagoon was within visual range of the cargo ship. Dutch requested on the radio to speak with the captain of the ship in person. The captain agreed.

"What was that all about?" said Benny's voice in Dutch's earpiece.

"Extra insurance. Mr. Chang has prepared a fat envelope for the captain of the cargo ship. Let's say the other triad group has already picked up the goods and left. We can bribe the captain to tell us truth, and we don't have to load some bogus crates filled with potatoes onto our boat. But if we are the first one here, we will give the captain some extra incentive to prepare some bogus crates for these guys."

"That's very shrewd, but won't the other group try to do the same to us?"

"Ah, Benny. It's a question of who's got the bigger balls and the deeper wallet. Mr. Chang would win on both accounts… Oh, and Revy, I want you to get ready. You will play body guard while I'm on that ship."

"You got it, Dutch" Revy droned over the radio.

* * *

The trade, it turned out, was quiet uneventful. After Black Lagoon was refueled and loaded up with the goods, she took off again to head back to Roannapur. The captain was happy to take the bribe and was already ordering his men to prepare bogus crates as the Black Lagoon was leaving.

A few hours later, Revy was bouncing a tennis ball against a wall in her quarter. Her feet were jiggling, trying to work off the excess energy she had.

"Revy, don't throw it so hard. Dutch says you are breaking his concentration with this racket." Rock appeared at the entrance of her quarter. His expression was mild as he made his request.

"Fuck off, Rock. Dutch must be crazy. He can't hear his baby talking and humming to him, that's why he's upset?" Revy spoke, not taking her eyes off the ball as it bounced back. She caught it deftly.

"Would you please stop it? You've been doing it for hours."

"What are you going to do? Stop me?" Revy said in a mocking voice as she threw the ball again.

Rock took one step into her room. Revy's eyes darted toward Rock's foot inside her room. Her eyes slowly travelled upwards until Rock's shirt pocket was in her view. She said nothing, but kept her eyes narrowed. Rock took another step, Revy's eyes still followed him. Rock took more steps and stopped when he was on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall and facing Revy. The tennis ball creaked loudly as Revy tried to crush it in her right hand.

"Revy, is there something you would like to talk about?" Rock said. "And I don't appreciate you giving me the death stare either."

"Hey Rock. You are not my employer. Don't talk to me this away." Revy's voice did not rise, it was cold and monotone, "And who gave you permission to enter my room? Get out."

Rock started to dig around in his pocket to find his Marlboros. He put a cigarette in his mouth and took out a lighter. He let the flame burn a little longer than he usually would, and then brought it to the tip of his cigarette. Revy tilted her head upward to see Rock looking out of the window and exhaling smoke through his nose. The smoke caressed his face, masking and blurring his features. Rock took another drag and said, "I'm not leaving until you tell me what is wrong, Revy"

Revy shot an angry look at Rock, but Rock wasn't looking at her. She tried to pierce Rock with the same penetrating gaze she used on many of her victims, but Rock still didn't look at her. After a while, she gave up trying to get Rock's attention. She made a "tch" sound and looked down into her lap.

"Nothing is wrong, Rock." Revy brought the tennis ball down to her thigh, scratching herself with it. Rock turned his head and looked at Revy. The smoke around him twirled as he did so. Revy continued on, "I'm just a little irritable today. It's got nothing to do with you."

"I think I understand how Dutch feels when I tell him I'm fine. In fact, I AM fine… You on the other hand, is not fine. So talk to me, Revy."

"None of your fucking business. I promise to be quiet, now get out of my face."

"Is it me? Did I do something?"

"You don't have to do anything. Now just shut up and leave!"

Revy stood up and hurled the tennis ball at Rock. Rock's face caught it. Revy was breathing heavily, her eyes wide with shock at what she did. Rock clutched his nose, His eyes watering with pain. Revy noticed her hand was still outstretched and quickly brought them back to clutch her own shoulders. Rock got up, blood pouring from his nose and stormed out of the room.

It took Revy a minute to take in what had happened. She dug her nails into her shoulder and clawed her hand across her shoulder, leaving red marks behind. She then titled her whole head backward, took a deep breath, and exhaled.

"Damn it." She muttered as she let her head fall forward again. She walked briskly out of her room.

Dutch heard the rapid clattering of boots on metal approaching him from behind.

"Yo Dutch, where's Rock?"

"He's in the washroom, cleaning up." Dutch replied calmly. He had his feet on the dashboard and was drinking a can of Singha. Revy was marching out of the door when Dutch said, "Revy, just let it go. I told Rock this might happen. And I was right, wasn't I?"

"Hmph." Revy grunted. She walked behind Dutch's seat and looked out of the window, into the blue horizon.

"Take it easy on Rock. You got that? I don't care if you go ballistic, but you have to learn how to deal with your emotion. You should also learn how to express yourself without taking the other person's head off. It's your problem; I don't want it to become my problem."

Revy looked somber, and stayed silent.

Dutch deliberately turned his head to speak to Revy, "And don't forget that you and Rock work together. You catch my drift?"

Revy stiffened and stared at Dutch. Dutch tilted his head more to look at Revy directly in the eyes. He made a serious face and raised his eyebrows. Revy sighed and nodded. She removed her hair elastic and ran her fingers through her hair. She screwed her eyes shut and growled as she gave her whole head a very vigorous massage.

"Hey, hey, stop that, I don't need hair in beer." Dutch complained and moved his can out of the way.

Revy laughed and put on her hair elastic. Benny came up the ladder behind them and said, "So, you didn't kill Rock huh?" Benny was holding an open package of beef jerky in one hand. He fished one out of the bag and started to chew on it. Revy turned around abruptly and snatched the bag of beef jerky out of Benny's hand and said "I don't think you should gamble your life, Benny boy. You wouldn't have the same luck as Rock." She opened the hatch and walked out onto the deck.

* * *

Geraldo was talking on the phone in his office. There were rhythmic thumping sounds from bass speakers somewhere below him, but it feels rather attenuated and distant in this room. The office was actually very quiet considering it was located right above the club Geraldo owns. The room was painted a bold red and was nicely furnished. The soft warm lighting complemented the red color. The centerpiece was a giant wooden desk, made from walnut.

"Don't worry about Owen, Mr. Isaac. I don't think he would be stupid enough to come marching in here. My men are on the lookout for him." Geraldo assured his boss. He wore a smug look on his face. The man was wearing a red shirt with vertical black stripes and black dress pants. The sleeve was rolled up, revealing a gold watch on one hand and a gold bracelet on the other. He checked his reflection in the window and ran his finger through his dark permed hair, trying to create an interesting look.

"Yeah, yeah, I know what he is capable of. I hired him in the past… mmm? Uh huh… uh huh…" Geraldo looked exasperated as he walked another lap around his office. "The guy has gone nuts anyways. I doubt he still has half a mind left to do what he wants to do. So don't worry about the trail left behind. What are you– Yeah Ok, but I got my men on that already. I will make sure nobody can contact her. Ok, anything else? Alright, then. Yeah I will be plenty safe. Bye."

Geraldo hung up and allowed the Chicago night scenery to distract him. He sat down on his desk and lit a Dunhill.

Three sharp knocks came from the door.

"What is it?"

Three more knocks.

"Emilio, get your ass in here if you want to speak to me. The door's unlocked!" Geraldo shouted at the door irritably.

There were more knocks. "Motherfucker.", Geraldo muttered. He took a long drag from his cigarette and walked towards the door. Just as he was about to grab the door handle the stained wood panel swung toward him. There was a violent crash, and Geraldo fell over. He sat there grunting in pain. His cigarette lay several feet away. Just then a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed his shirt collar and slammed him onto the desk.

"Hello, Geraldo."

"Owen!" Geraldo became quiet stiff and his mouth remained agape after he screamed his attacker's name. Beads of sweat were running down his curly hair along with thin streaks of blood.

Owen tugged the shirt up closer to him. Geraldo cowered instinctively and averted his eyes from the malicious green fire in Owen's eyes.

"Talking about me on the phone were you? I feel quiet honored to gain such attention."

"Wait! Wait!" Geraldo worked his hand frantically and tried to shield himself from Owen. "Please! It's all a misunderstanding. I'm sure we can work something out."

"Really? Somehow I don't trust you… So why don't we play twenty questions. I ask, you answer. If I still can't guess what the answer is, we will play reverse hangman."

"No! Wait! Owen! You've got it all wrong! Let me put the boss on the line for you!"

"Ok, let's start. Question one–"

In a desperate attempt to get away from Owen, Geraldo's right hand found a letter opener on his desk. He kicked his knee into Owen's stomach and swung his right hand, aiming for Owen's neck. Owen was knocked back slightly by the kick. There was a flash of silver light coming in to his left. Owen growled and charged in, turning sideways to face the attacking the arm and grabbing it with both of his hands. He then stepped back and forced his opponents arm downwards while twisting the wrist away from his body. With a snappy motion Owen twisted the knife wielding arm back the way it came. The knife slipped from Geraldo's hand and Owen snatched it. Owen punched Geraldo with an uppercut in the chin and then followed up with an elbow in the sternum. Geraldo bent over and wheezed, his hands covering his midriff. Owen stepped in, grabbing Geraldo's head with both of his hands and smashed his forehead into the unsuspecting face. Geraldo's arms shot upward to cover his face, not before Owen grabbed the right arm and plunged the letter opener into it. The scream from Geraldo did not entirely cover up the sound of metal going through flesh. Geraldo's right hand is pinned to the desk. The letter opener had gone through his hand and lodged itself into the wood.

"That was good, but not good enough." Owen said softly.

Geraldo gave a scream fury and his left arm went in for a sucker punch.

"Not so fast." Owen caught the arm calmly. He reached over into the penholder and took out a pen and nailing it into Geraldo's left hand.

Geraldo screamed again. His eyes were screwed shut and his teeth were clenched.

"Start talking or I will crucify you to your desk."

The music below was still blaring. Geraldo breathed heavily. His eyes are still closed, trying to ride out the pain. Then his eyes shot open as he felt something cold and hard pressed against his temple.

"By the way, no one's coming to save you. Why don't you take a look out into the hallway?"

Owen twisted his pistol, tilting Geraldo's head to give him a view of the hallway through the open door of the office. Several bodies were slumped on the ground. The red carpet camouflaged the blood puddles. The body closest to the door had his face turned toward the office, a .40 hole on his forehead.

"Answer my questions, and I will let you live. Your wounds are not very serious… yet."

"What… What do you want to know?" Geraldo said through gasps of pain.

Owen squatted down so he was facing Geraldo directly. He looked calmly into Geraldo's eyes and said "Tell me where Julia is."

* * *

The lagoon company arrived at Roannapur twelve hours later. It was close to six in the evening. Chang had his men wait at the dock to unload the goods. Dutch didn't ask what the goods were and just signed the delivery papers. Chang called them after his men had checked the crates to let them know the money will be wired into their account.

The gang of four stood around the dock after everything was unloaded. The sun cast long shadows onto the concrete. The sky was beginning to take on a warm hue. Rock was once again looking into the sea. It was calm this evening, and a few boat were drifting out in the bay, their owners lounging on the deck. Close to the shore, plastic bags, empty cans, cigarette butts, and all kinds of trash were clinging to the walls of the pier, trying to climb onto land and invade the citizens who tossed them away.

Revy walked up next to Rock, kicking the toe of her boot into the ground repeatedly. Finally, she said, "Rock, Listen… I'm sorry about what happened on the boat." She was looking into the water. Her face looked much kinder than usual. Her eyes gave a soft shimmer from the reflected light. Rock was slightly taken aback, but smiled faintly and said, "Revy, thanks for the apology. It means a lot, coming from you."

Revy was still looking into the water, but a smile crept up onto her face.

"Good work, crew. Easy job, no problems, and another paycheck. So let's go for some R&R at the Yellow Flag. What do you say?" Dutch called out.

The lagoon company agreed in unison. Revy and Rock tore their eyes away from the ocean and turned around. They walked behind Dutch and Benny, heading for the car, their steps in perfect sync.


End file.
